they were thatched. Sometimes a very luxurious house-owner would plaster the interior with mud, producing that peculiar style of architecture which is popularly called "wattle-and-daub." They could not comprehend in the least that stone could be used

in building dwelling-houses; and the whole system of cutting stone into rectangular pieces, and the use of bricks, was equally beyond their comprehension. Mortar also was an inexplicable mystery, so that on the whole they decided on discrediting the tales told them by the white man.

A Kaffir house looks just like an exaggerated bee-hive. It is of precisely the same shape, is made of nearly the same materials, and has a little arched door, just like the entrance of a bee-hive, through which a man can barely creep on his hands and knees.

The structure of these huts is very simple. A circle is drawn of some fourteen feet in diameter, and around it are struck a number of long, flexible sticks. These sticks are then bent over at the top and tied together, so as to form a framework very like a common wire mousetrap. A reed thatching is then laid over the sticks, and secured in its place by parallel lashings. These lashings are made of "monkey-ropes," or the creepers that extend their interminable length from tree to tree, and are found of every

each hut while they are under canvas, the neglect of both great inconvenience and unhealthiness.

size, from a cable to a packthread. They twist themselves into so rope-like a shape, that many persons have refused to believe that they have not been artificially made. The rows of lashing are about eighteen inches apart. In shape, the hut is exactly like the well-known snow house of the Esquimaux.

As, during the wet season, the rain pours down in torrents, the huts would be swamped for several months but for the precaution, which the natives take, of digging round each hut a trench of some eighteen inches or two feet in depth, and the same in breadth. This trench is about six inches from the wall of the hut, and serves to keep the floor dry. The reader may remember that all European soldiers are taught to dig a trench round this precaution being sure to cause

The woman generally marks the outline of her hut in a very simple manner. She takes a number of flexible sticks, and ties them together firmly with leathern thongs, or the rough and ready string which the Kaffirs make from rushes by tearing them into strips and rolling them on the leg with the palm of the hand. Three or even four sticks are usually joined together, in order to attain sufficient length. She then pushes one end deeply into the ground, bends the other end over so as to make an arch, and pushes that into the ground also. This arch becomes the key to the whole building, settling its height and width. Another arch is set in the ground at right angles to the former, and the two are lashed together at the top where they cross, so that a rough kind of skeleton of the hut is made in a very short time.

On the roof of the hut may sometimes be seen the skulls of oxen. This ornament is highly characteristic of the Kaffir. The high value which he sets on his cows is not surpassed by the love of the most confirmed miser for his gold. But there is another trait of the Kaffir mind, which is even stronger than avarice, and that is ostentation, to which his cattle become of secondary consideration. Unwilling as he is to kill any of the cattle which constitute his wealth, and which he values scarcely less than

his own life, he will, on certain occasions, slaughter one, and give a feast to his neighbours, who are sure to praise him in terms suitable to the magnificence-i.e. the quantity of the banquet. He is nearly certain to be addressed as Father, and perhaps some of the more enthusiastic, when excited by beef, beer, and snuff, may actually hail him as Chief.

The slaughter of an ox is therefore a great event in the life of a Kaffir, and is sure to act as a step towards higher rank. Lest the memory of such an event should fade away as soon as the banquet has been ended, the proud donor takes the skull of the slaughtered ox and places it on the roof of his hut, where it remains as a sign that the owner of the dwelling is a man of property, and has been able to spare one of his oxen to serve as a feast for his friends.

The building being now finished, the opening which serves as a door is cut on one side, its edges guarded with plaited twigs, and the Kaffir desires no better house. Though it has no window, no chimney, and no door that deserves the name, he would not exchange it for a palace, and many instances have been known where Kaffirs who have been taken to European cities, have travelled much, and been tolerably educated, have flung off their civilized garments, re-assumed the skin-dress of their nation, and gone off to live in huts instead of houses.

The whole structure is necessarily very fragile, and the walls cannot endure much violence. A curious example of their fragility occurred some time ago, when one chief made a raid upon the village of another. A number of men had taken refuge in a hut, from which it was not easy to drive them. Assagais were hurled through the sides of the hut, and did much damage to the inmates. The survivors tried to save themselves by climbing up the framework of the hut and clinging to the roof, but the slight structure could not support their bodies, and by yielding to their weight betrayed them to the watchful enemies without.

The illustration on page 56 represents the interior of an exceptionally large hut, being, in fact, the principal residence of a chief. Very few huts have more than four supporting posts. On the left may be seen two of the large store-baskets, in which milk. is kept and made into "amasi," while just beyond the first basket is a sleeping mat rolled up and resting against the wall. Some large earthenware pots, such as are used in cookery, are seen at the farther end of the hut, and a calabash rests against one of the posts. To the roof are hung bunches of maize, according to the curious Kaffir custom, which seems to ignore the fact that everything on the roof of a hut is soon blackened with soot, owing to the smoke from the fire. Whether large or small, all the houses are made on exactly the same principle, and except for their superior size, and the ox skulls which decorate them, the houses occupied by chiefs have nothing to distinguish them from those which are inhabited by their dependents.

Against brute foes the hut is sometimes as frail a protection. On one occasion an elephant was attracted by a quantity of millet, which was stored within a fence. He pushed his way through the useless barrier, and began feeding on the millet. There was a fire in one of the huts, and the elephant, instead of being scared by it, became angry, knocked the house to pieces, and walked over the ruins, trampling to death a woman who was lying asleep. Her husband nearly shared the same fate, but managed to roll out of the way, and then to escape by creeping between the legs of the angry elephant.

The roof of the hut is not wholly dependent for support on the flexible sticks which form its walls, but is held up by a post or two, on the top of which is laid a cross-beam. This arrangement also permits the owner of the hut to hang to the beam and posts sundry articles which he does not wish to be injured by being thrown on the ground, such as gourds, baskets, assagai-shafts, spoons, and other implements.

Ranged carelessly round the hut are the rude earthenware pots, in which the Kaffir keeps his beer, his milk, and present stores of grain. The floor of the hut is always kept scrupulously clean, and is generally as hard as stone, being made of well kneaded clay laid very smoothly, and beaten until it is quite hard. The best clay for this purpose is obtained from the nests of the white ant, which are beaten to pieces, then pounded,

and then mixed very carefully with water. In a well-regulated hut, the women are very careful of their floor, and rub it daily with flat stones, until it is not only smooth, but even polished.

Just within the entrance is the primitive fireplace. This, like almost everything which the Kaffir makes, is circular in form, and is made usually of mud; its only object is to confine the embers within a limited space.

Cooking is not always carried on in the ordinary house, nor is the fire kept constantly alight. In a permanent kraal there are cooking huts erected for that one

special purpose, and not used for any other. They may be called demi-huts, as their only object is to guard the fire from the effect of wind. They are circular, like all ordinary huts, but their walls are only four feet or so in height, and are carefully daubed with a mixture of clay and cow-dung, so as to form a most efficient protection against the wind.

The smoke from the fire is allowed to escape as it can. Some of it contrives to force its way between the interstices of the thatch, as may be seen by reference to the illustration on page 54. Some of it circles around the walls and pours through the door-way, but the greater part of it settles, in the form of soot, upon the interior of the hut, blackening everything within it. When the Kaffirs wish to season the wood of their assagai-shafts or knobkerries, they stick it into the roof of the house, just above the fireplace, exactly as bacon is cured in the smoke.

A curious reference to this custom is made in a song composed in honour of Panda,

King of the Zulu tribes. When Dingan murdered his predecessor Tchaka, he killed other chiefs at the same time, but was persuaded to leave Panda alive---

"Of the stock of Ndabitza, ramrod of brass,

Survivor alone of all other rods;

Others they broke, but left this in the soot,
Thinking to burn it some rainy cold day."

Reference is here made to the custom of leaving sticks and shafts in the sooty roof.
At night, the entrance of the hut is closed by a simple door made of wicker work,
and looking much like the closely-woven sheep-hurdles which are used in some parts of
England. With the exception

that the Kaffir always sits down at his work, the mode of making these doors is almost identical with that which is employed by the shepherds in this country.

The Kaffir begins by choosing some straight and tolerably stout sticks, and driving them into the ground at regular distances from each other. These are intended as the supports or framework of the door. He then takes a quantity of pliant sticks, like the osiers of our basket-makers, and weaves them in and out of the upright stakes, beating them down continually to make them lie closely together. When the door is completed, the upright sticks are cut off to the proper length, and it can then be fitted to the hut.

If

the reader has any acquaintance

with military affairs, he may re

member that gabions are made in precisely the same manner, except that the upright stakes are placed in a circle, and not in a straight line.

In order to keep the wind from blowing too freely into their huts, the Kaffirs make screens, which are placed so as to shelter the entrance. These screens are made of sticks and rushes such as the door is made of, only of lighter materials, and their position can be shifted with every change of wind.

Some of the permanent houses are built with a great amount of care, and occupy at least a month in their construction. In most of them the interior view is much the same, namely, the domed roof, supported by four posts placed in the form of a square, with the fireplace exactly in the centre. The natives will often expend much time and trouble in decorating their permanent mansions, and Mr. Christie tells me that he has seen the very posts thickly encrusted with beads. Of course they soon become blackened by the smoke, but a quick rub with the palm of the hand brings out the colours anew. One of Dingan's huts, which was visited by Retief, the Dutch colonist, was most beautifully built, and supported by twenty-two pillars, each of which was entirely covered with

beads.

The huts are, from the nature of the material of which they are made, exceedingly inflammable, and it sometimes happens that if one of the houses of a village take fire, the whole of them are consumed in a very short time. Fortunately, they are so easily built that the inconvenience is not nearly so great as is the case when European houses are burned. Moreover, the furniture which they contain is so limited in quantity and so simple in material, that it can be replaced without much difficulty. A mat or two, a few